


heaven only knows where you've been

by wafflesofdoom



Series: i love you a latte [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 10:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8663839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wafflesofdoom/pseuds/wafflesofdoom
Summary: robert didn't mean to fall for the grumpy new barista at his favourite coffee shop, he really didn't - but it's not like he had much control of it in the end.or, seven interactions robert has with the grinds grumpy new barista that make him think he could fall in love.





	

**i. the first americano**

 

 

Robert used to have a routine when it came to his mornings. He used to stop off at The Grind on his way to work, usually around eight thirty, picking up a coffee for himself, Chrissie and Laurence on his way to the firm, sometimes a scone if he was feeling particularly kind to his family-in-law.

He’d stopped having much of anything when his life came crashing down around him a few months previously, and he’d cut The Grind out of his morning - largely because he wasn’t seeing much of the mornings, sleeping in until late and mooching along to his job bartending in downtown Leeds, just about managing to change out of his pyjamas by the time his shift started, let alone stop for coffee. 

It had a been a comedown for someone who’d spent years building an agricultural machinery firm from the ground up, pulling pints and cleaning up after daft middle aged men who had a thing for chucking pints about when they’d had one too many.

Thats what he got for going into his marriage with his eyes closed and without a solicitor when he was twenty-two, he supposed. 

But he’d had enough wallowing for one life-time, so Robert had grabbed his laptop, and headed for The Grind to do some work. He was going to get back on his feet, use the divorce settlement when it came in to set up a new business - but he needed some decent coffee to do it, and The Grind made the best cup of coffee in Leeds. 

Stepping in to the familiar atmosphere of the little coffee shop, the rough wood of the tables and the strong smell of coffee in the air perking him up immediately. It was quiet, and he took his time browsing the food they had on offer.

He hadn’t eaten yet, and there was a sandwich on display with his name on it.

“You gonna order summat, or?”

Robert raised an eyebrow, looking up to see an unfamiliar face. He used to come to the coffee shop so often, he knew all the baristas by name - he’d even slept with one once, his usual ordering suspiciously watery for a couple of weeks when she’d found out he was married.

He’d deserved it, he supposed.

But he didn’t recognise the new barista. He was incredibly good-looking, his skin too tanned for someone who had always lived in Leeds, a dark, scruffy beard on his face. He was wearing a simple grey long sleeved t-shirt, the material tugged down over his hands.

He had a grumpy face, the look of someone who didn’t want to be covering the quiet early afternoon shift. 

“Am I not allowed to look?” Robert retorted. 

“You could look while I was making you your coffee.”

“You in a rush to get rid of me or summat?” 

“No, but the lunchtime rush is about ten minutes away and I need a piss before I deal with all of those people.” He shrugged. “So what do you want?”

“An americano please. And one of those sandwiches. For here.”

The barista nodded. “Eight pound fifty. I’ll bring it over to ya.”

Robert left the money on the counter, taking up one of the small tables by the window. He set up his laptop, settling himself in for the afternoon. He was going to set up an advertising company, he decided.

He’d wanted to go to university and study graphic design, once, so he had a fair idea of what was involved. Robert would have to find someone who could actually do design type stuff down the line, but he could go it alone at the beginning, he knew he could. 

“Sorry for being snarky.”

Robert raised an eyebrow as the barista set the coffee and sandwich down in front of him, his expression the least apologetic thing Robert had ever seen. 

The barista jerked his head toward the counter, where the owner was standing. “Me boss.” He said by way of explanation. “You’re not going to lob me in it, are ya? I’m already on her last nerve.”

Robert laughed. “Nah, you’re alright mate. I work in a pub, I get the frustration.”

The barista cracked a smile, just a small one. “Sound. Let me know if ya want another mate.”

Robert nodded, watching as the barista returned to work. The lunchtime rush began as the barista had predicted, people pouring out of nearby offices for their 1pm cup of coffee. 

He watched as the barista worked, his muscles flexing under the tight grey material of his shirt, his expression one of concentration as he worked, making coffee after coffee, shouting prices and orders in his gruff Yorkshire accent. 

He sounded like he was from the country. His accent was thicker than most he knew in Leeds, it sounded like the kind of accent he’d grown up with himself, back in Emmerdale

Shaking his head, Robert returned his focus to his computer. He had a business plan to make up, he couldn’t spend his day fawning over some mystery barista making coffees.

But he couldn’t help himself, his gaze flickering over toward the dark haired man every now and then. 

He was gorgeous, and well - Robert was recently divorced, he was allowed to look.

 

 

**ii. the first real conversation**

 

 

Robert wouldn’t say he was stalking the gorgeous barista, but any normal human being would probably argue that he was. He just happened to call into The Grind nearly every day, trying to judge what shifts the mystery barista worked so he could have an interrupted fawn over him for a bit.

When he thought it out logically, it was weird, but all that went out the window as he stopped into the coffee shop, and saw the gorgeous barista behind the counter. He was wearing a deep green jumper today, flicking through a magazine as he leaned against the counter. 

The green suited him, Robert decided, the forest green offsetting his gorgeously dark features nicely. 

“Hiya.” Robert greeted with a smile, his laptop over his shoulder and his hands in his pockets.

“Hiya.” The barista returned the smile. “Americano?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Robert said, deciding to take a seat to the left of the counter today, closer to the barista.

“You really like americano’s?” The barista inquired, pulling out a fresh cup. 

“Is it part of your job to judge my coffee habits?”

“Yup, if you’ve got shit taste in coffee.” 

“As a barista shouldn’t you love people who go for the americano option? Proper coffee, and all that.” 

“Nah, americano’s are boring.” The barista shrugged. “If you’re going to drink black coffee, have an expresso, y’know? Short and sweet.”

“So what should I be drinking?”

“Flat whites.” The barista said, as if it were obvious. “Only way to drink coffee, if you ask me.”

“Never had one.”

The barista raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“I’ve always just gone for black coffee.” 

“D’you think it makes you cool or summat?”

“Yeah, alright.” Robert rolled his eyes. 

“Always figured black coffee was the drink of a stressed out office type.” The barista said. 

“Used to be a stressed out office type.”

“Taking a break to camp out in here, then?” He asked, setting the coffee down on the counter before walking around it, grabbing it again so he could set it down in front of Robert. “You’re in here a lot.”

His tan had faded slightly in the weeks since Robert had first seen him. 

“Something like that.” Robert said. “And is there a rule against me being in here a lot?”

The barista shook his head. “Nah, we’ve a few regulars. You’re the only one who’s not part of the local mum’s club though.”

Robert snorted. “At least I’m memorable.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, mate.” The barista rolled his eyes, checking on the supply of coffee cup lids and sugar packets before he disappeared back behind the counter, taking up his position leaning against the counter. 

“I’m Robert, by the way.”

“Aaron.” The barista replied. “Pay before you leave, eh? You look like you’re settled for the day, so no rush.”

“Mm.” Robert looked at his laptop, suddenly unmotivated to do anything for the business plan he’d been working on for weeks. “Got some work to do.”

Aaron grinned. “Maybe you need the americano then, eh?”

 

 

**iii. the flat white**

 

 

“I know you said you work in a pub, but are ya ever there?” 

Robert grinned at the smart comment from Aaron, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “On my way there, actually.”

“What, shitty bar coffee not good enough for you?”

“I like to _pretend_ I’m a coffee snob, at least.”

“You’re not a coffee snob.” Aaron replied. “Trust me, I work with coffee snobs. The usual?”

“Nah, I’ll try a flat white today, please.” 

Aaron grinned. “Good choice.” 

“It did come highly recommended.” Robert said, hoping his smile was as flirty as he was trying to make it.

“You work around here, then?” Aaron asked, busying himself with the coffee machine. 

“Yeah, down the road - the Kings Arms.”

Aaron wrinkled his nose. “Spend your life serving middle aged men playing darts then?”

“Well, you spend your life serving the mum club, so.”

“Fair enough.” Aaron said, setting the drink down in front of him. “Two pound eighty, please.”

Robert handed him three quid, shrugging off the change. “Call in for a pint if you’re not busy later.”

“I’m busy.” Aaron shrugged off his offer. 

“Pity.” Robert wasn’t deterred, putting a lid on his drink. “Offer stands though, whenever you’re not busy.” He called, stepping out into the late evening sunshine.

He started walking down the street toward work, taking a sip of his coffee, a smile forming on his face.

Aaron made a damn good cup of coffee. 

 

 

**iv. the shared break time**

 

 

Robert looked up as Aaron plonked himself down at his table, a coffee and sandwich in hand.

“What? Its busy, and I’m not sitting with the mum club.” Aaron said, jerking his head toward the only free table in the coffee shop, next to the gaggle of chatting mothers. “You don’t have to talk to me or owt, just wanted a bit of peace on my break.”

“Nah, I could do with a break from this.” Robert gestured to his laptop, the screen too bright, hurting his eyes. 

“You writing a novel or summat?” Aaron asked, slouching in his chair. “You don’t seem like one of those weird writer types we get in here.”

“It was a business plan, but apparently I’m not qualified to work in advertising. Funny that, didn’t think you need a degree for everything these days.”

“Why would you even want to work in advertising?” Aaron raised an eyebrow, taking a bite out of his sandwich. 

“Dunno, figured I’d be good at it.” Robert sighed, closing his laptop. He’d been refused the business loan, so he was back to square one with the whole setting up his own business and getting out there on his own, do more than pull pints. 

“Sick of pulling pints, eh?”

“I didn’t always pull pints.” Robert said. “Used to run my own business.”

“What happened it?"

“Got pushed out.” Robert shrugged. “I’ve got a psycho of a father-in-law.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “You’re married?"

“Ex father-in-law.” Robert corrected. “Divorced. Or I will be in a few weeks.”

“You married long?”

“Six years.” 

“Sorry to hear it.”

“Nah, it just wasn’t working.” Robert said. “So I’m out on my own and out of ideas, apparently. Hiding any business plans, are ya?”

“I work in a cafe.” Aaron said. “D’you think I’d be working here if I had better options?”

“This place can’t be that bad.”

“Nah, it’s alright. Just not what I want to do.” Aaron said. “But I’m good at it, and it pays the rent, eh?” He shrugged, tearing in to the second half of his sandwich, chewing a massive mouthful as he looked at Robert.

“You are good at it.” Robert said. “Got a coffee off someone else yesterday and it wasn’t half as good.”

Aaron grinned, his eyes bright. “See you’ve converted to flat whites.”

“You weren’t wrong, its the best way to drink coffee.” Robert admitted. “So how did you end up being a barista?”

Aaron swallowed the last of his sandwich, taking a slug of his coffee before he spoke. “Lived in France for a few years - Paris. Easy to get work in a cafe, they don’t exactly need ya to have your a-levels.”

“Why Paris?”

“Went to live with a boyfriend, he played rugby over there.” Aaron explained, running a hand through his hair. “That relationship went to hell, but I stuck it out for a bit. Moved back over the summer.”

“Sounds like an adventure.” Robert said, almost wistfully. He’d left the village at nineteen, and met Chrissie six months down the line. Her father hadn’t been too keen on giving a teenager a chance, but Robert had grown up on a farm and he knew the ins and outs of agricultural machinery, he’d been an asset from day one if you asked him. 

Sleeping with the bosses daughter probably wasn’t the best road to go down, knowing how it all ended, but he did, and ended up married at twenty-two, and it hadn’t left much room for adventure. Plenty of flash cars and expensive holidays, and trendy suits to be paraded around wearing, but not much adventure.

“Yeah, well. It was alright.” Aaron said, his expression closed off. “Still working in the pub?”  


“Unfortunately.” 

“Might pop in for a drink later, when my shift is over.” Aaron said. “If you’re working. Pester you for a change.”

“I’m working.” Robert confirmed. “First pint is on me if you come and make my night a bit less dull.”

Aaron grinned. “Alright then.”

 

 

**v. the tables turning**

 

 

Robert was contemplating how best he could burn the pub down around him when Aaron walked in, a black bomber jacket chucked over the clothes he’d been wearing at The Grind earlier, his hands in his pockets.

He tried to ignore how his heart sped up as the dark haired man entered, offering him what he hoped was a calm and collected smile. “Hiya.”

“Hiya.” Aaron plonked himself at the bar, wrinkling his nose. “Proper old man pub this, innit?”

“Mm. Larger do ya?” 

Aaron nodded, settling himself at the bar. “So this is where you are when you’re not bugging me at work?”

“I don’t bug ya!”

“Mate, you’re a proper stalker. You’re always there when I’m there.” Aaron teased, accepting the pint with a grin. 

“Well maybe I’ve got a bit of a thing for grumpy baristas then, eh?”

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “You saying you fancy me?”

“What, like you don’t fancy me?”

Aaron snorted. “Alright, you’ve got no shortage of confidence then.”

“I know what I like.” Robert said, leaning against the bar. “You free for the rest of the night?”

Aaron shook his head. “I’m meeting a mate later. Another time, eh?”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

 

**vi. the helping hand**

 

 

“Bit early for Christmas decorations, innit?” Robert asked, leaning against the counter as he watched a grumpy Aaron string tinsel around the menu board, the barista looking incredibly unimpressed with life.

“Thats what I said.” Aaron said, chucking the tinsel half heartedly, hoping it would reach the top of the menu.

“Need a hand?”

Aaron looked at him, a serious “Make a joke about me being short and I’ll stab ya.”

“You’re not short, and I was just being nice.” Robert raised an eyebrow. 

“Sorry, just in a mood. The boss is doin’ my head in. Could you chuck that over the top of the menu?”

Robert nodded, setting his bag down on one of the empty tables. “Whats she like then, your boss?”

“She’s alright.” Aaron shrugged. “Owns a restaurant on the other side of town, so she’s not here much, just stops in every now and then to check in on us.”

“She’s obviously a Christmas fan.” Robert commented, easily reaching up to string the tinsel.

“Yup. She’s put a Christmas coffee on the menu.”  


Robert wrinkled his nose. “Bit Starbucks that, innit?”

“Thats what I said, but apparently gingerbread lattes will bring in _so_ many more customers.” Aaron said sarcastically. “My ‘why don’t we just make decent coffee’ contribution wasn’t appreciated.”

“You’re clearly wasted here.” Robert teased, moving back around the front of the counter. 

“Just like you’re wasted pulling pints?”

“Oh, yeah. I was destined to me rich and famous, me.” Robert grinned, watching as Aaron busied himself making his coffee. 

“You’re doing a shit job of it.” 

“Yeah, suppose.” Robert laughed. “Any bright new business ideas for me?” 

“You’ll be the first to know.” Aaron rolled his eyes.

“I saw such a gorgeous Audi the other day, walking to work. D’you like cars?”

“I’d want to, really. I was a mechanic for years.”

“Really?” Robert couldn’t help but sound surprised.  


“Yeah, why?”

“So was I.” Robert said. “Before I left home.”

“At least we’ve something in common, eh?” Aaron set the coffee down in front of him, Robert wordlessly passing him the money.

“I reckon me and you would have loads in common.”

“Oh, you reckon?”  


“Yeah, two handsome guys in jobs they hate, we both like cars.. Match made in heaven.”

“Nice try, mate.”

“What, my cheesy lines not working?” 

“I don’t do cheesy.” Aaron said, a smirk on his face. “So you’ll have to do better than that.”

“How about dinner? What time do you finish at?”

Aaron paused in his clean up, looking at Robert. “You’re married.”

“Used to be.”

“To a woman though.”

“And?”

“You just looking for a bit of adventure now you’re divorced? Because I’m not gonna be your little experiment.”

“Aaron.” Robert said, looking at the younger man intently. “My marriage ended because I had an affair with a man.”

Aaron raised an eyebrow. “So you’re… in the closet?”

“Bisexual.” Robert replied. “I’m not messing you around, Aaron.” 

The air felt thick around them as they stared at each other, neither of them having the confidence to make the first move. The spell was broken as the front door jingled, another customer entering. 

“I finish at six.” Aaron said, turning to the new customer.

Robert grinned. “Okay. Six it is.” 

 

 

**vii. the failed first date**

 

 

Robert mooched back to the coffee shop at a five to six, ducking inside. Aaron was stacking the chairs on the tables, humming to himself as he worked. “Hiya.” He called. 

Aaron looked up, a smile on his face. “Hiya. I just need to clean up, and we can go.”

“Can I give you a hand?” 

Aaron shook his head. “I’m nearly done. Thanks though.”

Robert nodded, leaning against the counter. “Where do you fancy going to eat?”

Aaron shrugged, stacking the last of the chairs, moving around the counter so he could make sure the machines were switched off, the till locked away in the safe. “I don’t mind.” 

“Theres a great Indian place about ten minutes away.”

“Sounds good.” Aaron called over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket from the little staff area, shrugging on the black bomber jacket. He looked good, for someone who’d just finished up a day at work - he was wearing black jeans and a grey long sleeved shirt, his trainers black leather.

His wardrobe might be lacking colour, but Aaron had a style of his own that made Robert’s mouth water. He was having trouble not just pinning Aaron to a wall and devouring that gorgeous mouth of his he’d been fixating over for weeks now, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink as he thought about how much he wanted the grumpy barista.

Aaron stood in front of Robert, clearly ready to go. “Ya alright?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Robert admitted, something inside of him snapping. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and cupping Aaron’s face in his hands, mashing his lips to his in a rushed, messy kiss. 

It was all teeth, and probably the least sweet and gentle first kiss they could have had, but it ignited something in Robert, warmth rushing through his body as he kissed the younger man.

It wasn’t his first kiss since the divorce. Robert was an attractive looking twenty something, he’d slept up with a few people, but none of that had felt the way snogging Aaron was making him feel.

Breaking their kiss, Robert stepped back. “Sorry. I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

Aaron didn’t say anything, biting down on his lip.

“I’ve messed this up, haven’t I?” Robert mentally berated himself for moving too quickly. 

Before he could apologise again, Aaron lunged, wrapping an arm around Robert’s neck, pulling him down to his level, pressing their mouths together. Aaron’s hands were in his hair, and his tongue was in his mouth, and - _jesus_ \- Robert felt like his head was going to explode from the feeling.

Robert grabbed at Aaron’s waist, his jacket bunching up under his fingertips as they kissed, their kisses messy and passionate and really, really fucking _hot_.

Aaron broke their kiss this time, dragging Robert by the wrist toward the tiny little staff area, slamming Robert against a wall. He was strong, Robert thought as Aaron’s mouth breathed kisses along his jaw, his hands down the back of Robert’s jeans. 

“So no Indian then?” Robert heard himself ask, wanting to slap himself for interrupting the hot and heavy mood with such a stupid question. 

Aaron smirked, snapping open Robert’s belt, his mouth inches from Robert’s as he spoke. “I’ve got better things to do first.”

 

 

**viii. the honest conversation**

 

 

They’d ended up going for Indian, after a quick and messy fuck on the floor of the staff room, Robert’s back in bits from lying on the cold tile, their lips red and bruised. They just about managed to wait long enough for their takeaway to be ready before they’d bundled themselves into a taxi, heading back to Robert’s flat.

The takeaway went cold when they’d gone for round two, and now they were eating reheated Indian food on the kitchen floor, drinking the last of the cheap beer in Robert’s fridge, laughing about something or other. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Aaron looked up, a forkful of food halfway to his mouth. “S’pose.”

“Why d’you keep your shirt on?”

Aaron’s face fell.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Robert said quickly, sensing he’d overstepped his boundaries. “Just curious.” 

“Another time, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Robert nodded. 

Aaron didn’t say anything for a second. “So you cheated on your wife?”

Robert choked. “You don’t beat about the bush, do you?”

“No point in it.”

“S’pose.” Robert nodded, thinking about what he was about to say. He didn’t want Aaron to hate him because he was honest about what a fuck up of a husband he had been, but he wanted to be honest. “Try not to hate me for this, yeah?”

“I’m no saint.” Aaron said by way of response.

“I married her when I was 22.” Robert said. “Started going out with her when I was 19. I’d just left home and well - it hadn’t been on good terms, so I was looking for an easy answer, and she had a very rich father.”

“So you married her for money?”

“I married her because I loved her, but the money helped. The money kept me around for six years, god knows we weren’t suited to be together in the long term.” Robert said. “She had a teenage son that drove me mental, and she was a pain in my ass at the best of times, and well, that and a few years of repressing my sexuality later, and I went out looking for a bit of fun in our local gay bar. It was all well and good until she came back from a business trip early and found me in bed with the companies receptionist. Who was a man.”

“Probably should have gone a bit further from home than your receptionist.” Aaron pointed out.

“It was always going to end between us, I just sped up the whole sorry process.” Robert said. “I didn’t even like her in the end, let alone love her. But I’m not in contact with my family, so divorce was going to leave me on my own again, and I didn’t want that.”

“Being on your own ain’t so bad.”

“Yeah? You on your own then?”

“I was.” Aaron said. “Ran away from home when I was fifteen. Lived in Manchester for a bit before social services caught up and sent me to live with me mum, stuck around with her for a bit before I moved to France with that boyfriend.”

“Were you with him for a long time?”

“‘Bout a year, but he was boring.”

Robert snorted. “Nice.”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. He was nice n’all, but he was too quiet for me.” Aaron said, finishing off the last of his Indian, slugging back some of his beer, stretching his legs out ahead of him.

His feet were icy as he leaned them against Robert’s thighs, grinning at him. “I like when things are a bit interesting.”

“Figured as much when you gave me a blowjob at your workplace.”

“And what did you figure when I let you fuck me on the floor of where I work?”

“That I was not letting you out of my sight tonight.” Robert smirked at the memory, the way Aaron had felt around him, Aaron’s hot breath against his ear as he'd ridden the fuck out of him on the floor of the staff room.

“Just tonight?”  


“For more than tonight, if you’d be up for it.” 

“You just got divorced.”

“We spilt eight months ago.” Robert said. “And my heart hasn’t been in it for years, Aaron. It’s not like I’m moving on from the love of my life.”

“You must have thought she was the love of your life once, you married her.” Aaron said. 

“Maybe when I was 21 and she bought me an Audi for my birthday. Not when the reality of her set in.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Aaron said. “I’m not saying I’m going to fall madly in love with ya, but you’ve been stalking me at work for long enough. Lets give it a try.”

“I wasn’t stalking ya!” 

“What, you just really like coffee?”

“Yeah, okay, maybe I was stalking ya a bit. But with a face like yours, can you blame me?”

“Yeah, alright, you’ve shagged me twice now Robert, no need for the cheesy lines.”

“God you’re a romantic, aren’t ya?” 

Aaron grinned. “Just looking for a warm body, me.”

Robert laughed, rolling his eyes at Aaron’s nonchalance. He looked at the man sitting across from him, dressed in nothing but his long sleeved t-shirt and his boxers, drinking a bottle of cheap beer and teasing the shit out of him, and Robert’s heart skipped a beat.

It was a perfectly cliche moment, like something out of a movie, and its not like he was going to admit it out loud, but god, Robert could fall in love with him, he really could.

“What ya thinking about?”

“Getting ya back into my bed.” Robert said, draining the last of his beer.

“Well all ya had to do was ask.” Aaron grinned, leaning across to kiss him, his mouth tasting like cheap beer and curry, the smell of coffee that always seemed to linger around him still there, underneath it all. 

He definitely wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but Robert was probably half in love with the grumpy barista sitting in his underwear on his cold kitchen floor already. And he was definitely going to bring him back to bed and keep him there for as long as possible, and uncover as much of the mystery that Aaron was as he could.

And the coffee in the morning was going to be great, now he was thinking about it.

 

 

** fin.  **

**Author's Note:**

> i saw someone post on tumblr about a coffee shop au for aaron and robert, and while i can't remember who posted it, the idea stuck with me - and because i'm terrible at committing to big, massive multichapter fics, this is a oneshot! i've messed with their timelines a bit here, especially robert's, so hopefully it doesn't all seem a bit far fetched. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed. find me over on tumblr as robertsuggles if you want to scream about emmerdale!


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